


We Liked That

by hayvocado



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alien Sex, Bisexual Eddie Brock, Choking, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Other, Rimming, Tentacles, it's fuckin tentacle porn there i said it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16332806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayvocado/pseuds/hayvocado
Summary: The two times Eddie tried to jack off without Venom interrupting and the one time Venom interrupted.





	We Liked That

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Satanic_Romantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanic_Romantic/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Нам понравилось](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475303) by [Rosy_Warner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_Warner/pseuds/Rosy_Warner)



> Aight.... I'm a monster fucker now
> 
> follow me on my tumblr for shenanigans [@femmebiote](http://femmebiote.tumblr.com/)

The thing that no one tells you about being a symbiotic host is that there’s really just no goddamn alone time. Venom’s in Eddie’s head when he eats, sleeps, and shits—there’s no reprieve.

 

That’s not to say that it’s all bad; the alien can be pretty good company at times, and Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t growing fond of the little shit. It just sucks that the things the man has spent thirty something years doing alone are now plus-one events. Going on walks to clear his head, late night research for a new piece, the occasional depression session.

 

Masturbating though… now _that’s_ the kicker.

 

Ever since the goo monster decided to piggyback onto Eddie’s brain, he hasn’t had the opportunity to jack off—or even think about it—without some kind of question or snippy remark from the damn thing. It’s only been a few weeks, sure, but in the brief vacuum of time that was B.V. (Before Venom) and A.A. (After Anne), he had a bit of a daily routine. This little deprivation period was driving him bonkers, leaving him even more high strung than usual.

 

It’s turning his life into even more of a waking nightmare than it already was.

 

***

 

The first time he’d tried, it was because Venom had been uncharacteristically quiet all day and Eddie had stupidly assumed that it was because it was taking a break from lurking around his brain and minding its business for once. Without its voice in his head, or it being physically present either on him or around him, Venom was pretty intangible. It was easy to forget it was even there if it was quiet enough.  

 

Eddie had felt pretty confident he could grease his pole within a few minutes—even quicker considering how fucking _long_ it’s been since he’s had any action, his hand included. Plus with all of the recent paranoia and stress in his life… _Hell, this wouldn’t take long at all. Venom won’t even notice._  

 

Leaning back against the arm of his couch, Eddie slipped his hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. He could feel a shiver of excitement run down his spine, thinking of how much better he’d feel after this. The second his hand touched his dick, however, the damned parasite was in his head.

 

**What are you doing, Eddie?**

 

_“Christ!”_ He’d yanked his hands out of his pants so fast he’d just about smacked himself in the face. “Dude, not cool.” Pouting, Eddie slouched into his couch, immediately abandoning that entire avenue of intent. Guess he’d have to distract himself with another case or something.  _Fuckin’ great._

 

**What were you doing?**

 

“Does it matter?”

 

A beat. There was an uncomfortable fiddling sensation in the back of Eddie’s mind, like someone was flipping through pages and searching for something.

 

**We feel…** **_stressed._**

 

The inflection tilted up at the end, as if it was asking a question. There was a weird significance to the words as well, like it was trying to figure something out.

 

“I’m always stressed, Venom,” Eddie had groaned dismissively, wanting nothing more than to drop the conversation. “Thought I could fix it, but I guess I was wrong.” At his words, he felt a strange weight shift around his shoulders, what almost felt like disappointment. But it wasn’t his own emotions, just an impression of whatever Venom was feeling. _It’s upset?_

 

**What is wrong?**

 

“Let’s just drop it, pal.”

 

Venom didn’t reply, but Eddie had felt a tickle at the back of his brain, a reluctant hum of agreeance.

 

***

 

The second time Eddie tried to give himself a hand, the leech had laughed at him— _laughed_ like it was at a goddamn comedy club—before the man had the chance to even pull himself out of his pants. The weird rasping sound reverberated around in his skull and Eddie had to bite back a shout of annoyance.

 

**You are thinking about it again.**

 

“Fuck’s sake, Venom. Do we need a privacy agreement or somethin’?”  Eddie was fifty shades of frustrated and he was beginning to consider taking it out on the symbiote.  

 

**Privacy?  Why do we need privacy?**

 

“Just gimme like five minutes of radio silence to… _y’know_ ,” he huffed out, feeling a blush creep up his neck.

 

Eddie wasn’t shy, per se. It’s not like he could really afford to be, what with an alien entity permanently bunking with him. It was just a little ridiculous that he couldn’t stroke one out without a live studio audience consisting solely of the sassiest sonuvagun he’d ever met.

 

**Don’t mind me, Eddie.**

 

He could practically _see_ the smirk on Venom’s face as it hissed into his mind. _Smug asshole._

 

**I am not smug.  Just knowing.**

 

At that Eddie barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes and hopping off the couch to take a _very_ cold shower.

 

“Whatever, pal.”

 

***

 

This time is… let’s just say _interesting_.

 

Eddie’s sitting on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through some sleuth articles on his phone, trying to distract himself from how overwhelmed he’s been lately. Today’s case was rough; he thought he had a substantial lead, and he spent a solid six and a half hours tailing some mean bastard just to find out it was a dead end.  

 

Turns out the guy had no connection to the corrupt landlord situation going on with the apartment complexes downtown. Just his luck, Eddie found out about the guy’s innocence a few minutes _after_ he got caught crouching in his fire escape—which earned him a firm right hook. Eddie only barely managed to calm Venom down enough to keep them from going “beast-mode” before he could stumble home with his tail between his legs. The entire walk back, his brain was filled with a cacophony of _“can we eat him, can we eat him, he’s a bad guy, can we eat him”._

 

Now, Eddie’s splayed out across his cheap couch, exposed springs digging into his back, phone in hand and a bag of frozen peas pressed against his swollen lip. Ever since the little altercation, Venom’s been looming a bit more towards the front of Eddie’s mind. It’s a creepy feeling, like a small part of his body has its fight or flight senses switched on, and it’s making him antsy. He sighs and tosses the peas onto the coffee table, setting his phone down next to them.

 

“Hey, Venom, buddy,” he coos, trying his best not to say anything that’ll further upset the symbiote—that, or warrant a snarky response.

 

**Yes, Eddie?**

 

“What’s got your hackles up?  I’m getting secondhand anxiety, my guy.”

 

There’s a moment of silence, hesitation, as Venom considers what it wants to say next. Eddie waits patiently, used to these pauses in “conversation” by now. He feels Venom do what must be the telepathic equivalent of a sigh. After a beat, there’s a peculiar iciness spreading across the back of Eddie’s neck and he feels his skin prickle.

 

**We are…** **_stressed_** **, Eddie.**

 

“...Yes?”  He replies, cautious—not so sure he likes the way that Venom’s intonation has taken on a mischievous quality. The stillness stretches out, and Eddie shivers when he gets that familiar staticky jolt across his whole body as Venom separates from him, tendrils extending from his neck and arms. Eddie holds himself still, muscles taut with apprehension as he waits and watches the murky black appendages move around him. One curls over the edge of his jaw, pulsating in the weird alien way that it does, slithering up to his mouth.

 

It presses against his split lip, and Eddie has to fight down his instinct to jerk away, instead settling on a shudder and a sharp inhale. He’s really too shocked to do much more. When Venom increases its pressure on the wound, Eddie hesitates, but the next second he’s parted his lips, letting it press into his mouth.

 

Eddie flattens his tongue, pressing against the tendril and feeling it oscillate and grow in his mouth. All he can taste is the weird metallic tang of ink; it’s sticking to the roof of his mouth and under his tongue. He closes his lips around it slowly, giving an experimental roll of his tongue. When he hears—no, he _feels_ —Venom hiss, he stops and reaches a hand up, pulling the limb from his mouth with a quiet gasp.

 

“Wh-what are you doin’?” Eddie’s breathless now, chest heaving. His voice is higher than normal, and he’s damn near trembling with anticipation. When he feels the entity’s laughter rumble beneath his skin, Eddie shudders again.

 

**That sounds like something you ask before sucking on someone’s fingers.**

 

Too shocked to make any noise, Eddie’s eyes simply widen, and his heart starts doing a double dutch hop behind his ribs. For a moment he just opens and closes his mouth dumbly, his mind now completely blank. The only complete thought that he can latch onto is a one-word question.  

 

_Fingers?_

 

Another laugh rolls from Venom and echoes around Eddie’s head.

 

**I can make them more…** **_human_ ** **if you prefer.**

 

Before Eddie can even wonder what the fuck his parasite’s talking about, some of the tendrils move before his face, melting together and forming a smaller— _much_ smaller—version of their claw. It’s still a bit bigger than his own hands, but it’s significantly less intimidating than the real deal would’ve been.

 

The hand moves now, poised just above Eddie’s neck. The heel of it is pressed against his clavicle and the fingers dance along the sides of his throat, flitting around just delicately enough to cause a tingle to zip from Eddie’s scalp to the top of his spine.

 

“What are y—are we…?” All the man can do is splutter out half-finished thoughts, he’s so caught off guard.

 

**Relax, Eddie.  I’m going to get rid of the stress.**

 

As the symbiote purrs the words of comfort, it emerges from Eddie’s shoulder, its face now hovering a foot or so from his chest. Even with its true form before him, misty eyes focused on his, Eddie can’t read the expression on its face—not that he ever could. The only hint he can really get is that all of its needle-sharp teeth are on display in what might be a smile, and its ungodly tongue is hanging from its mouth, undulating in the air.

 

_Oh, fuck._

 

Venom must have felt that thought extra loud because it _expands its fucking tongue_ and runs it across Eddie’s jawline, over his scruff, and up the side of his neck, pausing right before licking around the seashell curves of his ear. This time he doesn’t even bother trying to bite back the groan that leaves him.

 

More tendrils appear, moving to Eddie’s torso and dipping beneath the hem of his shirt, working their ways up over his abdomen. Some climb up to his chest while others wrap around him at the base of his ribs, pushing against his sides and applying pressure to the rigid muscles there. The appendages pick up a rhythm, now providing a full-blown massage.  

 

**Do we like this, Eddie?**

 

The question is rhetorical at this point. Their connection was strong enough that Venom could for sure be sensing the bliss bubbling up through Eddies body. All he does is grunt in return. The symbiote just hums and forms more of the slick limbs, these ones moving the opposite direction, slipping under the waistband of Eddie’s sweatpants. A chill flickers up his spine as they trace his happy trail all the way down and start to wrap around the base of his cock.

 

“W-woah, woah, woah, o-okay man,” Eddie stammers out, heart rate picking up. He's into it but he doesn’t know if he's  _that_ into it. Apparently his dick has a differing opinion, because when one of the tendrils decides to give a gentle squeeze at the base, he’s suddenly at half mast, tenting in his joggers.

 

**Does Eddie want us to stop?**

 

There’s an irritating pulse of smugness trickling in from Venom’s side of the bond and Eddie hardly refrains from rolling his eyes. _What a little shit._ Although the thought is sent in Venom’s direction, and Eddie knows it hears him, there is no response. There is, however, a sharp pinch to Eddie’s nipple, delivered by one of the tendrils still wrapped about his chest.

 

“ _Ah!_ F-fuck you, dude,” Eddie bites out around a moan.

 

**No, I’ll do that.**

 

Eddie watches as Venom’s mouth widens in what’s basically the alien symbiote equivalent of a grin, and he laughs in disbelief.

 

“How about no?”

 

**How about yes?**

 

“How 'bout you get your feelers out of my pants?” Eddie wiggles his hips when he feels the tendrils coil a little tighter around him, not sure himself whether he wants this to go any further or not. He’s seen enough monster porn in his day to know exactly where this was going.

 

**We think Eddie likes our feelers in his pants.**

 

“Venom,” his voice has taken on a sharper tone now. For a moment he wonders if it’s a warning or a challenge. There’s another sharp squeeze around his dick and he feels the claw-hand shift and adjust its grip around his neck. They aren’t exactly in choking territory yet, but _fuck_ if the potential doesn’t make Eddie bite his lip and groan. “You know what you’re doin’, V?”

 

**I’m in your brain, idiot.  I know what you like.**

 

Before Eddie can respond more of the tendrils—fuck, _alright,_  they’re fuckin’ _tentacles_ —manifest and drape over his wrists and ankles, binding him to the couch and rendering him immobile.

 

“ _Christ_ ,” Eddie hisses, feeling himself get even harder. The claw-hand tightens down, now properly applying pressure, and the man lets out a bona fide  _whimper_. He feels his counterpart growl approvingly, but in that borderline terrifying register that makes his bones vibrate— _has that always been that hot?_

 

Venom’s face floats away from Eddie’s now, that goddamned tongue trailing along his body until it’s floating just above his crotch, grinning up at him. Another one of its hands appears and dips its claws under the waistband of his sweatpants, scratching across his hip bones and leaving raised red welts in its wake. Arching his back, Eddie hisses and squirms, waiting for his alien brain mate to stop being such a fucking _tease_.

 

As soon as his pants are down around his knees, the tendrils around his cock have retreated back into him, leaving Eddie’s skin buzzing with a cool tingly rush. _How have I never noticed how good that felt before…_

 

**Use our hand.**

 

After a beat, Eddie’s lust-muddled mind finally processes that Venom spoke to him. “Wh-what?”  He wants to cringe at how breathy and busted his voice sounds. The skin of his right arm ripples and tautens as more of Venom’s inky alien goo surfaces, encasing his hand all the way up to his elbow. The tendrils that had been restraining him to the couch withdraw and the hand moves down to his lap. Eddie can’t tell which one of them is doing it but he can’t be bothered to care too much.

 

“Oh,” he mumbles dumbly. The hand wraps around his now fully-hard member and squeezes once. “ _Oh_.” Eddie watches as his— _their_ sooty fist moves up and down on his cock, claws dangerously sharp and glinting threateningly as they move. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he questions if this still counted as masturbation or if it was technically sex.

 

**We like this, this feels good.**

 

If a voice in your head could sound out of breath, then that’s exactly how Venom sounds in Eddie's own head.

 

Eddie begins to work their hand faster, sighing when Venom makes it pulsate; he feels an electrical sizzle zap through his nerves. Venom watches their hand intently as well, hazy eyes following every movement, and Eddie feels a tickle of fascination tugging from its side of the bond. _It's actually kinda cute_. That is, until he gets distracted by the way that its tongue is dangling from between its teeth.

 

When Eddie takes in the sight, his breath hitches. He doesn’t even notice the way his pace picks up, moving faster and faster over his length. He feels a straining tug in his forearm at the effort, and a corresponding ache dancing down the insides of his thighs. Not of his own accord, his hips begin bucking up into his hand, twitchy and frantic, trying to chase his peak down.

 

Just as he begins to feel a curl of tension work from his cock to his stomach, Venom hisses, taking control of their hand and ceasing their movement. At that, Eddie throws his dignity away and whines loudly, doing what he can to push his hips up and into their fist.

 

“Venom, _sh-shit_ , what the fuck man,” he’s out of breath and full on shivering.  

 

**Slow.**

 

Eddie’s opening his mouth to throw back a snarky reply when the hand on his throat—that he’d completely forgotten about—tightens. No more fucking around, apparently. Eddie can’t even fully appreciate the feeling of the claw hand at his throat before he feels something hot and slick pressing at his asshole. He jolts, trying his best to wiggle away from the intrusion despite still being bound to the couch.

 

“Chrissake, Venom!”  

 

Letting up immediately, Venom’s face floats back into Eddie’s line of sight, its head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. Stunned, he watches as the symbiote draws its tongue back into its mouth, realizing that it had just been trying to rim him.

 

“Oh my _fuckin'_ God,” he breathes.

 

**We enjoyed it Eddie, why did we stop?**

 

" _'Why did we stop?’_ You gotta _ask_ before you stick your tongue in someone’s ass, dude.” It seems so stupidly self explanatory! Then again, this is a damned alien parasite we’re talking about. Common sense remains uncommon. “It’s fuckin’... _invasive_ , I dunno.” Eddie huffs, feeling an embarrassed blush crawl up his chest and neck. The symbiote stews for a moment and Eddie can feel it considering something.

 

**Do you trust me?**

 

Eddie pauses. Venom doesn’t often refer to itself as a different entity from Eddie and when it does, it’s either angry with him or trying to make a point. This situation feels strongly of the latter.

 

“Y-yeah…?”

 

**I’ve got us, Eddie.**

 

With that, Venom plunges its barbaric fuckin’ mile long tongue back into his ass.

 

It isn’t the first time that Eddie’s had his ass eaten (and judging by today’s turn of events, it’s not gonna be the last). It’s just been a real long time, as in _junior year_ long time. Also last time he was getting rimmed by some twunk in a dank locker room; nothing can prepare _anyone_ for the tumult that is extraterrestrial ass eating.

 

Eddie makes a sound like he’s _dying_. If Venom’s goddamn tentacles hadn’t been holding him down, he probably would’ve thrown himself onto the floor. Venom spends a few moments laving just barely past his rim, until it’s confident that Eddie’s wet enough to start working him open. It pushes its tongue even deeper into him and christ it’s so fucking _long_.  

 

As it finds his prostate and starts stroking at it with _just_ the right amount of pressure to make Eddie’s voice crack, Venom slowly picks up where it left off with Eddie’s cock. _Agonizingly slowly_. Just as Eddie collects his thoughts enough to gripe about it, Venom’s tongue honest to god fuckin’ _swells_ inside of him and the man all but sobs.

 

Taking pleasure in its other’s torment, Venom just continues its unhurried ministrations, matching the pace of its tongue and hand. With Eddie squirming and whining under it the way he is, Venom is just downright giddy.

 

“Sh-shit, V, please,” he’s begging loudly now, and the symbiote mercifully obliges.

 

Now Venom’s fucking Eddie with urgency, tongue working him over wildly, desperately, sending him reeling. The claw-hand on his cock is pumping at a dizzying pace and he’s damn near drooling. His whole body trembling, covered in a sheen of sweat, and engulfed in overstimulation, Eddie manages to form words.

 

“Hhh fuck, ‘m so cl— _fuckshitfuck!_ ”

 

**Good, good, my Eddie.**

 

Those four words have Eddie flying over the edge, back arching high off of the couch and all of his muscles convulsing. His toes curl so hard he feels a cramp start to form in the sole of his foot; the overwhelming susurrus of pleasure rippling beneath his skin is suffocating and paralyzing. It doesn’t help that Venom feels it just as much as him, thrumming over his flesh and writhing around both inside and outside of their shared vessel. For a moment, he even feels the symbiote completely encase him before they both settle down, Eddie panting and lightheaded and Venom languidly sinking completely back into his skin, satisfied.  

 

There’s a few moments of uninterrupted silence, while the two just soak in the post-orgasmic bliss. Quietly, Venom creeps back into the front of Eddie’s mind, and he can feel that it has something to say, hiding beneath a layer of uncertainty. He decides to speak first, hoping to put it at ease somewhat.

 

“What’s up, V?”

 

**Did… Did we like that?**

 

Eddie can’t help but huff out a breathless laugh, running a hand over his face and nodding.

  
“Yeah, buddy,” a content sigh. “We liked that. _A lot_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself for this


End file.
